The Good Fight
by Canadian Werewolf
Summary: Set in the Dominion War, a young officer takes command of a crippled starship when the captain is killed. All, however, is not as it seems... Not even our hero. A Work in Progress. Please read and review this one.


As he stepped through the double doors, exiting the corridor and entering the lounge proper, the newcomer's eyes snapped immediately to the viewport and the stellar vista portrayed beyond. Just beyond the clear stretch of metal swarmed dozens upon dozens of starships of every size and shape darting this way and that like a school of fish brought up to a galactic scale in an ocean of stars. No, not fish. Thought the newcomer, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges, the corners of his mouth turning up in a grin. Sharks. So many deadly sharks anticipating a kill. The blood's in the water and soon we'll strike.  
  
"By God, Marc. Will you look at that..." he whispered to his companion, indicating the armada assembled outside with a nod of his head and a point of his chin. "It's the combined fleet. Bet you never thought you'd see Romulan warbirds and Klingon battlecruisers at the same time without them shooting at each other."  
  
"Yeah, and just think... Once we hook up with the rest of the fleet at Chin'Toka we'll be unstoppable." Marc patted his friend on the back, a firm clasp of his shoulder with one great hand and then he was off on his way. "I just saw some friends I promised to meet here." The Asian man grinned wildly over his shoulder from beneath his dark mustache as he vectored in on a tight cluster of male officers and their female friends, one of whom seemed to be looking for an arm to hang off of. "Catch you back on the ship at twenty one hundred?"  
  
"Yeah..." he replied, a note of distraction entering his voice as he gazed across the room. The object of his fascination wasn't a ship outside in the viewport, nor was it his great friend Marc... No, She sat at the bar. A starbase was a busy place even in peacetime, and now with the war going on it was even busier with soldiers of all the Allied Forces, refugees, and millions of others, each as unique as the rest and approximately half of them female, but she... She was different. "Yeah, I'll see you then."  
  
Have you ever seen someone and known... known that somewhere, sometime you'd met before, even though you knew for a fact that you had never seen her face before in your entire life? Her hair fell down her back in a great cascade of chestnut curls and the eyes that peered out of her face were animated and full of life, imbued with a youthful innocence that he hadn't seen... In quite a long time. She sat perched on a stool wearing a long, light purple dress that flowed from her collar to her ankles, not hugging tightly to her body like his Starfleet uniform did to his, Commander's pips gleaming at his collar and all. Rather, it left more to the imagination and conspired with her youthful aura to give her an almost pixie-ish appearance.  
  
He felt drawn to her from the moment their eyes connected across that busy lounge, and right at that instant he knew he had to meet her. Summoning up all his courage, he tugged on the hem of his uniform in a futile attempt to straighten a garment that was already laser straight and crossed the floor, angling towards the seat beside her. While en route, he summoned up all the witty phrases and comments he could make to introduce himself, but by the time his feet stopped moving his mouth had started, acting of its own accord.  
  
"Hi. Sorry to disturb you, but my friend just went off to meet someone and now I'm on my own for the evening." he began almost before he realized what was happening. "Would you mind if I joined you? I hate being alone."  
  
"No, not at all." she said, turning a dazzling smile upon the young officer. "Please..." she gestured gracefully towards the stool beside her at the bar. "Have a seat."  
  
"Why thank you." he replied, trying to match her smile with one of his own, and feeling quite uncertain as to why hers had him so off-balance. "Can I get you something?"  
  
"No." she giggled, a bubbly sound that only served to enhance the air of innocence that seemed to exude from her very being. "I've already ordered. It's something special... you just wait until it gets here."  
  
His smile never wavering throughout, the young officer leaned slightly on the bar as the two of them waited in silence while a bartender brought over a small bowl of something pink and fluffy.  
  
"This has got to be my favourite food..." she said with a smile as she showed him the contents of the bowl, tipping it up just enough so that the edge didn't obstruct his line of sight to what was inside, giving him a clear view of her order. "Strawberry ice cream."  
  
For some strange, unknown reason, this struck the officer as something slightly funny to eat in a bar. Slowly, he began to laugh, a soft chuckle rising up from the depths of his chest.  
  
"Strawberry ice cream..." he repeated, shaking his head. "You know, of all the things I've ever seen ordered in a bar full of soldiers, that has to be the most unique, and yet..." he waved the tender over. "Get me one of those."  
  
She, for her part, dove right in, taking a dainty spoonful and slipping it between her lips to deposit it on her tongue. Her eyes closed and her face twisted into an statement of ecstasy as the frozen dessert melted upon her tongue.  
  
"Mmmmm..." she murmured between spoonfuls. "I could live off this stuff." When the officer's bowl arrived, however, she paused in her assault on the brightly coloured mound sitting in her bowl and waited to gauge his reaction to it as if a man's response to ice cream was his only measure of humanity, the dividing line between saint and monster. Oh, how the officer wished this was so, wished for a universe where you could weed out potential Hitlers from the Mother Teresas by watching them eat ice cream. Dipping his spoon in, he took his first bite, inserting it into his mouth with all the care and precision of a shuttle landing.  
  
"Ohh..." he moaned on swallowing the sweet dessert. "I haven't had this stuff in... Years." he shook his head. "Far too long."  
  
"Perhaps you should indulge in it more often." she suggested, taking another spoonful of her own bowl, savouring it for a moment before glancing back to him.  
  
"Maybe I will." he said, favoring her with what he hoped was his most dazzling smile. "I don't believe I caught your name. I'm Jack Carter." he introduced himself, extending the hand not holding the spoon to shake. After swapping her spoon from hand to hand, she took his hand and returned with a blinding smile that absolutely put his own to shame.  
  
"My name is Suchin." she said. As their skin touched, Jack was flooded with an intense feeling of warmth and calm, as if in that one moment, all was right in the universe. A slight crinkling of the brow betrayed the million and one questions running through his head to his new companion... But they went no farther. Deciding to place politeness over curiosity, he decided that it was none of his business and restrained the burning desire to know from forcing the words from his mouth.  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Suchin." he said, inclining his head and shaking her hand firmly, turning to take a spoonful of ice cream in an attempt to keep his mouth busy until such time as he could regain self control.  
  
"You have a million questions to ask me, don't you?" she said, more a statement of fact along the lines of "water is wet, isn't it" than a true request for information.  
  
"A million and one." he replied truthfully, shrugging as if it meant nothing to him.  
  
"Then go ahead and ask them." she acquiesced, smiling in a politely magnanimous way.  
  
"No."  
  
"No?" she repeated, one eyebrow raising in slightly amused curiosity. "Why not?"  
  
"It wouldn't be polite to go digging into your business."  
  
"But don't you want to know what I am?" she inquired, smiling at him in a way that suggested a soft, almost musical chuckle was in the offing. Her eyes crinkled slightly, squinting at him as if she wasn't sure whether or not she believed him, or thought he was handing her a line. Leaning forward slightly, leaning on the bar, she treated herself to another spoonful of ice cream as she awaited his answer.  
  
"My daddy always said that who a person is should be more important than what." Jack said, meeting her eyes in a quietly solemn manner, then smiling before he continued. "Simple way of putting that is it's what's on the inside that counts. Now I'm a pretty good judge of character, and just guessing from the little time I've spent with you now, I'd have to say that what's on your inside is solid gold all the way through."  
  
Her smile actually broadened at that comment. "You really believe that, don't you?" she asked in a tone somewhere between amazed and impressed. Jack simply nodded his head slowly and spooned himself another small mouthful of the delicious strawberry ice cream. "From the solid gold to the worth of a person, I believe every word." he affirmed after swallowing the spoonful. "Every last one."  
  
"You have a truly enlightened mind, Jack Carter." she said with a smile that sent a tingle down to his toes. It was an innocent thing, really, with no undertones of any sort... It just brightened his day to know it was directed at him. "That's a rare thing these days..."  
  
Jack's smile took on a slightly joking bent, but there was something in his eyes that lent his next words a more serious tone, suggesting that maybe he wasn't completely joking. To tell the truth, in fact, he wasn't even certain on that front right about then.  
  
"You're just saying that because I think you're beautiful."  
  
This time he actually succeeded in making her blush slightly. "No, really... I mean it." she assured him, then chuckled and turned his own words back on him. "I believe every word."  
  
* * *  
  
Some people have it easy... The accident of birth, or maybe a few well-placed genomes, and it all falls into your lap. You breeze through school and when it's time to choose what to do with your life, every door opens up before you. People fall all over themselves trying to entice you to go to college here, to come work for them there. It's not for you, though. You choose the Academy. Join Starfleet, see the universe. That's what you want. The Academy's a piece of cake for you. Four years and you graduate and go right into the fleet. Work your way up through the ranks and you've got it made. The smart money's on you making Captain some day, maybe Admiral if you don't hang on to the center seat too long.  
  
Other people are like Nick Locarno. School was never easy for him. The work was a piece of cake, but the motivation? It just wasn't there. Why bother? It was child's play to him. Somewhere around high school, it hit him... Some things require effort. Suddenly, he was breaking his back just to stay afloat and get high enough marks to qualify for the entrance exam for the Academy. Once he was in, it was hell trying to stay there. He slaved and scraped to make it through his classes, only this time there was plenty of motivation. You see, at the Academy an older Cadet named Jack Carter had introduced him to the joys of flying. Jack was one of those lucky ones. If they weren't such close friends, Nick would find it easy to hate him.  
  
But he didn't. The other man had given him a reason to try, and within a year he had made Nova Squadron. When he joined the elite flight group, his heart soared. Only the best and brightest made it here. Jack was the cadet commander until he graduated... And when his friend left the Academy for a place in the fleet, Nick took his place. He trained with such cadets as Sito Jaxa and Wesley Crusher... Until the accident.  
  
Poor Josh. He had what it took scholastically, and his piloting skills were second to none, but he lacked a certain something. He lacked Nick's agressiveness, the fire and drive that had brought him this far against all the odds. He could cut it. He could go the distance and graduate, but he wasn't a Carter. A Crusher. He wasn't a Locarno. They all knew he was going to end up behind a desk on some Starbase or shuttling VIPs from Command to the President's office in Paris and back.  
  
Then the accident happened. They had mere seconds to get out of their trainers and beam over to Jupiter Station. There was no time for hesitation. They had to slap the emergency transport control and go, or they were dead. Josh hesitated. Josh froze. Josh died.  
  
Worse than that, Nick had tried to cover it up. He'd convinced the other cadets to say that Josh panicked in the middle of a routine maneuver and clipped one of the other trainers. That the collision caused a chain reaction that brought down all five trainers. That wouldn't have happened under Jack. Jack would have told the inquiry what happened right away. Jack would have taken full responsibility. Jack would never let his cadets lie about something like that.  
  
From his corner by the window, Nick growled at himself in disgust, covering his sneer with another sip from his synthale. Jack would never have permitted the maneuver in the first place. He glanced over at his old friend sitting by the bar. He'd considered calling out to him when he saw him walk in. If there was anyone he could talk to, it was his old Academy buddy. But then he'd seen the woman... How does he do it? She'd barely looked at anyone when she arrived, and here she was locked in conversation with his best buddy. Nick shook his head and stayed where he was.  
  
It had been all his fault anyway. There were reasons the instructors forbade the Koolvord Starburst maneuver. It was too dangerous, too risky, too likely to do exactly what it had done. Nick, though... Nick had wanted his cadets to graduate with a bang. He'd wanted to leave an impression that would echo through the halls of the Academy long after he'd left. He'd gotten cocky, and Josh had died because of it. They'd split, ignited their plasma exhaust... and the resulting blast had ruined their engines. Five Cadets went up for the flight. Four made it home again. Josh...  
  
"Hi... This seat taken?"  
  
The voice pulled Nick out of his reverie, shaking loose the memories of his last year at the Academy for a moment as he realized she was speaking to him. Suddenly, instead of staring off into space, he found himself looking at a regulation black Starfleet uniform. Following the cloth up over the grey shoulders and across the mustard coloured turtleneck underneath. A trail of spots ran up the woman's graceful neck and across her temples just under a full head of red hair pulled back into a bun. She smiled down at him, a mug of something hot and steaming held in her hand, the other one resting on the back of the seat in front of him. "No... No, not at all, Ensign. Go ahead. Have a seat." Nick said finally, returning her smile. "What can I do you for?"  
  
"Just a little company. I hate drinking alone, even if it is just coffee." Pulling out the seat, she slid into it, setting her mug on the table. "Jesa Kan. Pleased to meet you, commander..." Her voice trailed off, leaving him to supply his name.  
  
"Locarno. Nick Locarno." he answered, waiting for her reaction, waiting for her to get up and walk away. No Starfleet officer wanted to be seen with him anymore. "But, I'm off duty, so I guess that makes me just Nick."  
  
"Well, Just Nick..." she said with a smile. "I'm off duty too, so I guess I'm just Jesa." She paused to sip her drink before giving him a considering look. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"  
  
Here it comes... Nick sat back and sighed, taking a long sip of the synthale. "Yes, I'm that Nick Locarno, no I didn't think anyone would get hurt, yes I thought I could get away with it, yes I'm ashamed of myself, no I don't sleep well at night." he paused for a breath. "Yes, I still see Josh's face when I close my eyes, and yes, I did get expelled for performing an illegal manueuver and attempting to cover it up. What with the war on, though, Starfleet needs everyone they can get. I've been through four years at the Academy already, so they gave me a uniform and here I am." He spread his arms as he finished, meeting the Ensign's eyes. "That about cover it?"  
  
Jesa just gave him a sympathetic smile. "No."  
  
"No?" Nick repeated. This was new. "What were you going to ask, then?"  
  
"I was going to ask why you're sitting here, looking like you haven't got a friend in the world." she said. "Now that I know why I want to ask why you like it that way."  
  
"What do you mean 'I like it that way'?" he asked incredulously. "Do you think I like being an outcast?"  
  
"No, I think you like beating yourself up over what happened." Jesa answered. "I also think that you can't get enough of it, so you want everyone you meet to beat you up over it too. Either that, or you want them to just go away. You don't think you deserve friends, do you?"  
  
"Of course I deserve friends. My best friend's right over there." he said, indicating Jack with his stein.  
  
"Then what are you doing over here in the corner, acting like a Klingon in a room full of tribbles?"  
  
His mouth opened to answer, and then closed again. That caught him off guard. What was he doing over here? Sure, his friend was putting the moves on the girl in the long dress, but that was nothing new. When he wasn't on duty Jack was usually putting the moves on someone. It was just his nature. In fact, most of their off duty time at the Academy was taken up by cruising bars, riffing off each other's lines and trying to pick up women. Now here was his best friend holding hands and eating ice cream with a beautiful woman, and Nick was way over in the corner. Why wasn't he over there with him?  
  
Before he had to answer, his communicator beeped. Tapping the arrowhead pin, he answered it. "Locarno here."  
  
"This is the computer. Report to airlock twelve for deployment."  
  
"Affirmative. Locarno out." Looking back to his companion, he gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. I've gotta..."  
  
She cut him off with a nod and a smile, already rising from her chair. "I just got the same message. Once more unto the breach..." All throughout the room, Starfleet officers, Klingon warriors, and Romulan centurions were finishing their drinks, excusing themselves from whatever they were doing, and heading for the doors. Something had happened. The fleet was moving out ahead of schedule.  
  
* * *  
  
If his first officer looked like he stepped off of a recruiting poster, then Captain Ashton Wright of the USS Vimy Ridge looked like Hollywood's idea of a Starfleet captain. Tall and thin, with a full head of what used to be dark hair and a beard that had long since succumbed to the years and gone mostly gray. He exuded a strength of character and a confidence that swelled out to encompass the bridge as he sat in the command chair a full four minutes ahead of the first crewman to arrive. In ones and twos they filed out of the lift, moving to their positions.  
  
Commander Carter was first, moving to his seat at his Captain's side and checking the status of his console. Mister Vonn was next, the Andorian tactical officer nodding to Wright as he and the helm officer took their positions. The ops officer was on the final lift to the bridge, along with one of Lieutenant Commander MooSang's engineers, a Lieutenant Paul Duffy, if he remembered correctly.  
  
The ops officer in question, Lieutenant Commander Nicholas Locarno strode down the ramp to the front of the bridge, sliding into his station. He was in the seat and half way through a quick diagnostic before he even noticed who was sitting at the helm station next to him.  
  
"Well... Small galaxy, commander." smiled Ensign Jesa Kan.  
  
Nick smiled, shaking his head as he ran through his part of the startup sequence. "Yeah, fancy meeting you here, huh?"  
  
Captain Wright cleared his throat. "I take it you two know each other already..." he said, raising an eyebrow. Finishing up his latest sequence of diagnostics, Locarno set another battery of automatic tests running, and glanced over his shoulder towards the centre seat.  
  
"Yes sir. We met briefly on the station." he answered.  
  
"Excellent." Wright said. "All stations report status."  
  
"Phasers and torpedo launchers are online. Shield generators have completed their startup sequences and are ready at your command." Lieutenant Vonn reported. The Andorian's voice was soft, nearly a whisper, and yet it seemed to carry across the bridge with ease. "Tactical is ready."  
  
"I'm reading green lights across the board. We'll have warp power at your discression, Captain." Duffy looked over his shoulder. "Engineering is ready."  
  
"Impulse engines and thrusters are responding beautifully." Kan chimed in. "Helm is ready."  
  
Locarno tapped in one last sequence of commands. "Ops is good to go."  
  
Rolling his eyes at his friend's need to be different, Carter turned to to the Captain. "I'm recieving readiness reports from all decks. We're ready to depart, sir."  
  
"Very well. Cast off all moorings." Wright ordered. "Signal the dockmaster we are ready to cast off."  
  
"Aye, sir..." affirmed Vonn. "Dockmaster signals that we are cleared to depart."  
  
The captain nodded. "Helm, take us out. Thrusters only, then bring us up to half impulse once we are clear of the spacedoors."  
  
Beside her, Nick's fingers twitched as he imagined carrying out the command. Until last week, Nick had been helmsman onboard the Repulse, an Excelcior-class starship he could pick out in the next berth over. Until last week, it would have been his hands carrying out that command. Now, he had a different job, that of riding herd on the myriad of different systems and departments that made up the far newer Akira-class heavy cruiser.  
  
Soon, the Vimy Ridge had slid silently between the spacedoors, leaping forward on her powerful impulse engines as she moved to take her place in the fleet as if the ship herself was eager to go, thankful for the opportunity to once again fly free in space. Expertly, Kan slipped the cruiser into her position at the side of the USS Banbridge, the Galaxy- class ship to whose battlegroup she belonged.  
  
"I apologize for not having the time to brief you fully before we departed." began Captain Wright, rising from his chair. "You all know that our mission was to reinforce the combined fleet at Chin'Toka. What you don't know is that half an hour ago, the Argus array detected a Dominion battlegroup on its way to retake that system... A battlegroup including what we believe to be Breen starships. While Starfleet would usually believe the combined fleet capable of repelling such an attack, these ships are an unknown quantity. We have orders to reinforce the combined fleet as soon as possible. Command estimates that we will arrive at roughly the same time as the battlegroup in about an hour's time. Ms. Kan, set a course for Chin'Toka."  
  
"Aye, sir." Kan answered, her fingers expertly working her console. "The flagship signals ready to depart, sir."  
  
Wright nodded, raising one hand. "Engage." he ordered, bringing it down in a chopping motion.  
  
* * *  
  
"Captain's log, supplemental." Ashton dictated. "We're less than thirty minutes from the battle site at convoy speed. Once again, I must disagree with command's directive that all ships arrive together. If we didn't have to hold back for the Romulans, our Galaxy elements could race ahead and join the fleet. I understand the need to present a unified front, but lives are at risk here. I just hope that the delay doesn't cost us..."  
  
A sudden tremor almost shook the Captain out of his ready room chair. Clutching the arms, his eyes shot to the viewport just in time to see the stars shrink back from rainbow streaks to pinpoints of light... They had dropped out of warp. Leaping to his feet with a vitality that belied his age, Wright rounded his desk and was just clearing the door to the bridge as red alert sounded.  
  
"Report!" he ordered, striding down the ramp to his seat.  
  
"It's an ambush, sir! A Dominion fleet group got the jump on us." Carter answered.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Damned if I know, sir. We barely had time to get the shields up before the first shot landed." he replied honestly. "I'm not detecting any Breen, but I am reading at least two Dominion battleships and several smaller craft." The ship rocked again with another impact.  
  
"Shields at ninety percent." Duffy called out from the back of the bridge.  
  
"Return fire, full phasers and torpedo spread, then pick your targets." Wright ordered. "Photons only. We've just got a handful of quantum torpedoes."  
  
With barely a nod, Vonn lashed out with the ship's weapons, spearing a Cardassian Hideki-class ship on the end of a phaser beam until a burst of torpedoes streaked in to blot the small craft from the sky. Wheeling about on full impulse, the Vimy Ridge spat volley upon volley of death and destruction, torpedoes and phaser blasts streaking out to pummel and pound at the shields of a powerful Keldon-class battlecruiser. Return fire clawed at the Federation ship's own defenses, pouring across the defense screens.  
  
Sparks showered from an overhead conduit as the ship rocked under blast after blast. "Shields at seventy five percent!" Duffy called out. "Still no major structural damage."  
  
"I'm getting minor casualty reports on decks three and four. Nothing serious." Carter reported.  
  
Wright nodded. "Bring us about, Ms. Kan. Attack Pattern Bravo-4."  
  
"Aye, sir. Coming about."  
  
On the screen a torrent of photon torpedoes poured from the cruiser's five forward tubes, hammering away at the enemy battlecruiser until finally it could take no more. Great chunks of twisted metal and armour tore away from the ship, spiralling across space and leaving a once proud warship nothing more than a battered, lifeless hulk.  
  
"Good shooting, Mister Vonn." congradulated Wright. "Let's see if we can't take some of the heat off of the Banbridge. Target their attackers and..." He never got the chance to finish that order. A powerful trio of blasts tore into the Vimy Ridge, sending tremors through her very framework.  
  
"Shields at sixty one percent. Minor damage to decks ten and eleven." Duffy reported.  
  
"Jem'Hadar attack ships." Vonn explained. "Shall I return fire?"  
  
Wright nodded. "Full spread. Ms. Kan, Attack Pattern Echo..." Once again, a hit to her shields shook the deck. This time, the 'Ridge was tossed about like a child's toy. Sparks showered across the bridge and lights flickered. Vonn was pitched forward across his console. Behind him, Duffy was almost thrown from his chair.  
  
"Shields at fourty three percent!" the engineer cried out with alarm. "Damage to decks five, six, seven, and eight!" Another blast struck home, throwing him to the deck, and then another... and another. The science panel exploded with a flash, sending the officer flying across the deck. Duffy tried to pull himself upright, scrambling towards the fallen officer. Leaping from his chair, Carter braved the swaying deck to rush to her side, waving Duffy back to his station. Obviously shaken, the engineer threw a quick glance across his panel.  
  
"Shields have failed!" Duffy called out. "Damage to decks one through nine. Sporadic reports of hull breaches. Warp engines are offline!"  
  
"Medical team to the bridge!" Carter called over the comm.  
  
"Evasive maneuvers, Charlie sequence!" Wright snapped. "What hit us?"  
  
"The Jem'Hadar battleships, sir..." Vonn said, supplying the answer.  
  
"Open fire, all weapons." Wright ordered. "Ms. Kan, get us out of here..."  
  
"Aye, sir!" she answered, suiting actions to words.  
  
"Sir!" Locarno shouted. "I'm detecting power to the enemy transporters. I think they're trying to..." Suddenly a low crackle filled the air, almost like a static charge as a soft hum grew to encompas the bridge. Tall, gray skinned figures coalesced out of thin air, weapons held ready. Rows of small spikes or horns ringed their brow and jawlines, their hair pulled back into tight topknots that hung down their backs. Jem'Hadar.  
  
Jack was in action almost before they finished materializing, his powerful legs pistoning to give him momentum as he sprung up and over the rail behind the command pit, landing with both feet in the chest of an enemy soldier. "All hands, repel boarders!" he called out, following up his attack with a vicious right cross.  
  
At the front of the bridge, Locarno was out of his seat and firing with his phaser, using his chair for cover as he cut down a Jem'Hadar raising his rifle to fire on Carter. In the aft section, he could see Duffy wrestling a soldier for his weapon while the blue skinned Lieutenant Vonn rained precise, measured blows down across another enemy's body. Wright launched himself from his chair, catching one of the spike-headed enemies by the wrist and slamming it against the rail, sending a short, vicious looking knife spinning from his hand before the murderous fiend could slip it between his first officer's ribs.  
  
The only one not locked in a life-or-death struggle with the attackers was Ensign Kan. Bravely holding her post, she wove the beleagured ship through the melee of warships, making a break for open space. If they didn't escape their pursuers, then whether they won the boarding action or not would be a moot point. They'd simply end up painted across space. They needed some room to maneuver, and a little time to perform repairs.  
  
Wright's steely eyes locked on those of his opponant, glaring up at him with rage as they pummeled each other, raining blow after blow over the other's body. They twisted and turned, briefly getting an advantage over the other before losing it again. Each was an experienced fighter, forged in the heat of dozens of hand-to-hand encounters. Suddenly, the Captain gained the upper hand. A fierce left hook sent the invader sprawling back against the bridge rail. Grabbing his dropped knife, Wright leapt upon him, intent on slitting his enemy's gray throat. There was a flash, and the knife clattered to the deck. Slowly, he became aware of a burning pain in his stomach, and of a low, rumbling laughter. The Jem'Hadar's. Looking down, he saw the barrel of the soldier's pistol mere inches from his gut. His knees crumpled, and he collapsed to the deck. Peripherally, he was aware of Carter crying out in rage, of Locarno blasting his opponant into oblivion, but it all seemed so far away. Quietly, his field of vision shrank and went dark, and with a sigh Captain Ashton Wright died.  
  
* * *  
  
"Acting Captain's Log, Commander Jackson Edward Carter recording." he paused. "God, they're all gone. The fleet... the Captain... All of them. After we fought off the boarders, we broke free of the battle and hid in low orbit around a gas giant until we could make repairs, and watched while the Dominion took our best and brightest and ground them into dust. The Captain wasn't the only casualty. In total, we lost eighty four of five hundred officers and crew with many more wounded. Among the dead is my friend, Chief Engineer Marc MooSang. We've taken damage to the warp drive and long range communications. We can receive transmissions, but not send them. Our shields couldn't stop a really strong sneeze, and phaser power is almost non-existant. I just found out that our fleet at Chin'Toka was routed, and I don't expect us to last through the week. I am launching a log buoy containing a record of this battle. If anyone finds this, tell Starfleet we fought the good fight."  
  
* * *  
  
What was left of the senior crew clustered around the briefing room table, looking the way Jack felt. Battered, bruised, and demoralized. They'd lost the fleet, they'd lost the captain... There wasn't a man or woman in the room who didn't expect to die in the next few days, and yet... Here they were, doing their jobs.  
  
"I've got the shields back on line." Duffy reported. "All I've been able to coax out of them is fifty two percent, but it's better than nothing. We're still working on the phasers, but all the torpedo bays are still online, thankfully." Paul's hands were shaking as he gave the report, holding on to his coffee cup with both hands. MooSang's loss put him in charge of Engineering for now, and the strain of the last hours was showing on the by-the-book officer's face. "I'd say two hours to get the impulse engines back online, but sir... Without new warp coils we aren't going anywhere in a hurry. The port nacelle is shot all to hell."  
  
Jack nodded solemnly, turning to the chief medical officer, Doctor Sus Cita. The whole front of the petite Bajoran woman's tunic was stained with blood of all colours. Her hands and face had been cleaned up, but she hadn't had a chance to change uniforms before coming to the meeting. Even now she seemed impatient, urgently wanting to get back to sickbay. Jack couldn't blame her for her appearence, though, he thought as he raised a hand to a grease spot on his cheek. None of them were exactly looking their best.  
  
"Sickbay's full. I've got cargo bay four converted into a triage centre, but..." she let out an exasperated sigh. "Jack, I wouldn't have enough people as it was for all the wounded, and four of my nurses and one surgeon are among the hurt."  
  
"I understand, Cita. Get out of here." he said, nodding to the door. "I'll tell you what happens here when we're done, but you've got to get back to sickbay." Nodding her thanks, the doctor fairly bolted for the turbolift.  
  
Pacing around the room, Jack took a deep breath and looked to the chair at the head of the table. The captain's chair. He couldn't take it. He'd sat in the centre seat on the bridge a few times, but... This was different. What he was about to say didn't make it any better. "I won't lie to you, people. We may be operating on our own for a long time. From what we've been able to intercept, the Jem'Hadar have pushed back the front past our position. We're now behind enemy lines without warp power. If we're going to operate on our own, we'll have to establish a chain of command." Jack paused behind the captain's chair at the head of the table, resting his hands on the back. "I keep expecting the Captain to come through the door, but he's not going to, and I'm facing the fact I am the captain now. As such, I've had a few decisions to make. Mister Locarno?"  
  
Nick sat up straight in his chair, meeting his friend's gaze. "Sir?"  
  
"I am hereby appointing you as the first officer. Let your alternate know he'll have to take over Ops." Carter informed him. "You've been Starfleet material since we first met, and despite what anyone else thinks, I believe you still are. You will not fail, Nick."  
  
You will not fail. Anyone else would have said don't let me down, but not Jack Carter. To him, there was no question of it. Not for his friend. Nick just prayed he was right.  
  
"Mister Duffy?" Jack continued. The engineer's eyes came up, locking with those of his commanding officer. "Marc was my friend too. I miss him like hell, but we've got to carry on or his death won't mean a damn thing. From this point on, you're the Chief Engineer. Think you can handle that?"  
  
Paul swallowed, nodding. "I'd damn well better."  
  
"I know you can." Jack assured him. "Dismissed." 


End file.
